


Like You A  Latte

by Victuuri gives me feelings (Help_Im_Shipper_Trash)



Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: Hallelujah, M/M, Oops there's drama now, Ritsu has a backbone, Takano is a jackass and Ritsu hates him, it's a coffeeshop au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29752839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Help_Im_Shipper_Trash/pseuds/Victuuri%20gives%20me%20feelings
Summary: Ritsu survives Onodera Publishing for four years, twenty-three days, and six hours before he snaps.His departure from Onodera Publishing is many things: Sudden. Stupid. Freeing.Things his departure is not: peaceful, forgettable; a good idea in general.
Relationships: Onodera Ritsu/Takano Masamune
Comments: 19
Kudos: 23





	1. Bitter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is u p y'all I'm a barista that hates my job and I don't know what this is but here take it

Ritsu survives Onodera Publishing for four years, twenty-three days, and six hours before he snaps.

"I quit."

His father finally looks at him. Silence echoes through the room.

Ritsu's departure from Onodera Publishing is many things: Sudden. Stupid. Freeing.

Things his departure is not: peaceful, forgettable; a good idea in general.

His father screams his throat raw. Ritsu can't bring himself to care.

The snowflakes of scattered documents he'd thrown and the horrified look on his father's face make sure that this little scene won't leave anyone's mind any time within the next five years. Tough. They'll get over it. Honestly, it's hardly as if it was the first time his father has shouted at him like a disobedient child in front of all the gossiping bloodhounds he'd called coworkers. But, after today, it will (finally) be the last.

The reality of what he's done sinks in exactly five seconds after he walks out the front doors. Ice grows in his chest. He forces his breath past it.

Because no. He's not going back. He's fine. It's fine. This is _fine._ He wanted this, dammit, and he's relieved ~~terrified~~ to be free from underneath his family's thumb for the first time in his life.

Right?

(His hands shake, knuckles tight and white around the strap of his work bag, never loosening once on his way back to his apartment. He only throws up once.)

His phone buzzes and blinks with notifications constantly, but Ritsu isn't ready to deal with the consequences of his actions yet, so he turns it off. He doesn't have the energy to eat, so he makes do with crawling under his sheets and sinking into blessed oblivion until he is rudely awakened with a start by the piercing shriek of his alarm. He's out of bed and half-dressed before he remembers that he has no reason to be. He doesn't bother changing the attire before slinking back into bed.

When he wakes up for real, the sight of sunlight has him scrambling for a split second before he remembers, again, that he isn't expected anywhere. Not anymore. His phone says it's 8:43 a.m. He hasn't slept past five in the morning in four years.

Fighting the sense of wrongness in his stomach, he stumbles into the kitchen and activates the machine that provides him with his lifeblood. The coffee trickling down down _down_ into the carafe idly reminds him about a new cafe he'd noticed in passing. Fifteen minutes from his apartment if he took the subway, and located conveniently on his way to ~~work~~ his father's office. He'd seen it, but he'd never been inside. He'd never had the chance to. Until now.

The coffee pot goes quiet, and Ritsu's wandering thoughts circle back around to the liquid gold as he pours some into an honest to god mug, rather than his usual to-go cup. Today, he doesn't chug his coffee. Today, he sips it and finds some bread and butter in his fridge when he checks to see what he needs to add to the grocery list he hasn't gotten around to taking care of for three weeks. It doesn't seem bad, just a little stale, and that won't matter if he cooks it.

It's not the meal of champions or anything, but it's more effort in preparing food than he's expended in a long time. He's proud -probably more than he ought to be- of himself munching on his simple breakfast. Afterward, there's a mug, a single plate, and a single knife in his sink. He decides to worry about it later. First, he needs to figure out how he's going to pay for the water, which as he is recalling now, is not as free as it was before.

Rent is due in two weeks. So is electricity. Gas. Utilities. He's got enough saved up for the upcoming cycle, but after that, it'll be a different story. Ritsu needs to learn to think before he acts, sometimes.

There's no way his parents are going to continue to pay half his rent. They'd made their expectations clear when he'd begun working for his father, and as of yesterday, he is failing to meet them spectacularly. Really, he gets it. But now he is on a deadline (and it's funny, how he escaped everything but that) and he doesn't have time to waste. Determined and ready to get himself out of the fine mess he's made, he sits down and makes a list.

What can I do:

1\. Read

2\. Edit

3\. 

Well. That severely minimizes his options, as well as his pride, but that's neither here nor there. If an editor is all he's good for then he'll just have to be an editor. And aside from Onodera Publishing, there's only one company even close enough to entertain the possibility of working for.

 _'Marukawa_ ' he types into his phone and saves the address the search provides.

Ritsu feels better with his vague semblance of a plan. Considering that it's his only option, it's as good a place to start as any. Exchanging his outfit for a less sleep rumpled one, he brushes his teeth, tries to tame the mess on top of his head semi-successfully, and slips his shoes on at the doorway. He hesitates. His shoulder bag stares at him from the corner he'd hurled it into in a rage. He stares back.

If he... if he just grabbed it, and showed up at work again like nothing happened... everything would go back to the way it was before. His father probably wouldn't say anything, (probably wouldn't even look at him, as always) and his coworkers definitely wouldn't. He might have to put up with some bitter and hateful whispers for a few days, but that wouldn't be anything new. He knows how to deal with that by now. He can take it. He wouldn't have to worry anymore. It would be so easy...

And that right there is exactly the problem. 

No. No way in hell. He's fine. It's fine. This is _fine._ He needs to focus. He fucked up and he acted without thinking and he _needs_ to fix it, soon. Marukawa Publishing is, without exaggeration, his only hope and if he doesn't get hired he'll end up on the streets because that is where he'd rather be than anywhere near that house that's too big and too small and too goddamn suffocating and-

No.

Ritsu needs a job. Marukawa can give him that, probably. He fucked up. He made a rash decision, and he can't take it back ~~not that would if he could~~ and he has one, single chance to fix it. He _cannot_ fuck this up.

So, you know. No pressure.

Ritsu takes a deep breath. Opens the door. Steps beyond it.

He can _do_ this. He's a talented, experienced editor from a factually high-ranking company. His projects have always exceeded expectations, and no author, not even _Usami_ has ever managed to ruin his perfect deadline record. He's damn good at his job and Marukawa is going to be lucky to have him.

Ritsu nods, lets go of the handle, and the door closes. Then, he moves forward, determined to reach his destination.

Fuck it, he thinks viciously. What's the worst thing that could happen?

* * *

Ritsu should really know better by now than to ask himself rhetorical questions. "What do you mean, I'm not eligible for hire?"

The secretary's plastic smile pinches a little more around the edges.

Ritsu, hysteria levels rising rapidly, can't bring himself to apologize or care. Because what the fuck _what the fuck._

"We contacted your last place of employment."

Ritsu's stomach _twists._ Oh.

The secretary carries on like she didn't hear Ritsu choke on his breath and see his face turn three shades paler. Ritsu appreciates her for it. "Unfortunately, given the nature of your… last day, you are unable to apply here. Basically, you've been blacklisted."

Translation: Ritsu somehow fucked up even worse than he thought he did. Shit.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, sir?" The secretary's eyes soften a bit in sympathy, but her voice remains chipper and professional, grating on Ritsu's ears.

Dazedly, Ritsu shakes his head. His throat is dry; cracked and bleeding. He doesn't even try to speak.

The secretary smiles at him politely.

Ritsu leaves before he can humiliate himself any further. His breathing comes in sharp, ragged breaths. Fighting down his rising panic, his feet start walking in the general direction of the station without consulting him.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Ritsu is so completely and totally _fucked._ Editing is all he's ever done. It's what he went to school for. It's what he's done for the last five years. It's all his family had ever allowed for him, and at this point, it's all he knows how to do. Now, he can't do it. Shit, shit, _shit._

Each beat of his heart is faster than the last. He can feel himself breathing, but it's not working, he's not getting enough _air._ His head is pounding in time with his pulse. His throat is still dry and cracking. He wants to breathe. He wants to scream. And dammit, he wants some iced coffee.

Funnily enough, it's right as he thinks that as he realizes that he is no longer heading for the station, but rather his feet have taken him down a different path, leading to a vaguely familiar location, although he couldn't for the life of him give a reason why. About fifty feet in front of him now, the very same cafe his idle thoughts had brought to the forefront of his mind earlier stands tall and proud.

The timing of it is… oddly convenient, but fuck it; Ritsu's life is spiraling out of control and he wants some damn coffee. Sue him.

The cafe is warm. The scent of fresh pastries and coffee being brewed assaults his nose as he walks in and he feels his heart rate automatically drop a few beats per minute as he takes a moment to enjoy the nice smell. The cafe's interior design is both everything and nothing that he expected. It's well lit, perfect for reading, he can't help but notice, and on top of the expected booths and tables lining the walls, there is a large, cherry wood bookshelf dominating the back wall. Definitely a bonus.

There are a lot of books on that bookshelf. Ritsu's fingers itch with the urge to trace the spine of each one of them, but another whiff of fresh coffee has him re-sorting his priorities.

Thankfully, there's someone at the register. He looks young. Probably a high school student, if Ritsu had to guess. Dark hair frames an innocent-looking face. The black apron he wears is slightly lopsided. He's a bit shorter than Ritsu. His smile is bright when Ritsu hesitantly approaches, trying not to visibly show his crippling awkwardness. "Hi," he greets pleasantly. "What can I get for you?"

Ritsu's heart rate slows another few beats when presented with something blessedly familiar. "Can I just have a black iced coffee, please? I'll take the biggest possible size you can give me, I'm having a bit of an off day," he confesses, mouth quirking up in a pleading expression.

The boy, whose name tag dubs him Kisa, grins understandingly and nods, turning to the side with fluid grace. Bringing a pitcher of iced coffee into existence from where there must be a fridge below the counter, he pours it to the brim of a large plastic cup.

Ritsu could kiss him.

"Here you go," he says breezily, handing Ritsu his cup of lifeblood.

"Thank you." Ritsu clutches it gratefully. "How much do I owe you," he asks, fumbling for his wallet.

Kisa waves him off. "Nah, it's on me," he says, smile still bright.

Ritsu blinks.

"Since you've never been here before," Kisa says, sensing Ritsu's confusion.

Ritsu's spine tingles. The hair on the back of his neck rises. "What? How did you know-" he starts, subconsciously noticing that there's no one else in sight. His heart rate kicks back up a few beats.

Kisa's grin curls into something a little more sly. "I'd remember seeing a cutie like you before now," he promises. "You've definitely never been in here."

Ritsu blinks. What?

Kisa winks.

Oh. _Oh._ No, wait, Ritsu is still confused. Of all the answers he had been expecting, that was certainly...not one of them. He's briefly glad that he hasn't taken a sip of his drink yet. He would have choked on it if he had as he coughs in surprise at… that.

His expression must be something priceless because Kisa laughs delightedly. "Oh wow, you really are cute!"

Ritsu's face feels oddly warm. Unsure of what else to do, he takes a sip of his iced coffee.

Kisa laughs, again.

Ritsu is saved from death by mortification with the swish of a door off to the left of the counter opening.

"Kisa," a deep, exasperated voice fills the empty cafe. "This is the fourth one today. Stop scaring off the customers, dammit."

Kisa's lips curl downward into a pout. "Excuse me, but my charming self is practically the only reason so many people come back at all and you know it," he says with outrage.

Ritsu makes the mistake of choosing that moment to take another sip of his drink.

The man attached to the deep voice reveals himself as he exits the side room and joins Kisa behind the counter. He's tall. Easily over half a foot taller than Ritsu. He's got broad shoulders. His eyes are a warm hazelnut, but they're sharp, and they pierce Ritsu's gaze without warning for all of one second.

Unfortunately, that's long enough.

Ritsu actually does choke on his coffee this time. _Be normal, be normal, be normal,_ he begs himself internally.

 _Tall. Big shoulders._ Is all his fried mind helpfully supplies.

Ritsu wants to scream.

Thankfully, neither of the other two men seem to notice his internal crisis; too caught up in their banter. This works just fine for him. Yeah, Ritsu may or may not have a type. Yeah, said type may or may not be exactly everything about the man on the other side of the counter who he needs to stop staring at _right now._ Sue him.

Type makes eye contact with Ritsu. Again. Because Ritsu is still _staring,_ shit.

Ritsu freezes, caught in the act of being an idiot. He forces his head to ruin slightly so that he's no longer openly gaping. His hands feel sweaty inspired of the cold drink he holds, and he nearly lets his it slip through his fingers before he remembers himself and saves it.

Only when the man has mercy and looks away is Ritsu able to take a breath.

Ritsu has never wanted to melt into the floor so badly in his life. Why is he like this, it's ridiculous! He's twenty-five years old! How has he not gotten over the phase of becoming totally useless whenever someone attractive even looks at him? It's been ten years, but here he is still acting like a fifteen-year-old pathetically mooning over Sa-

 _Ha,_ he shuts down _that_ train of thought in an instant. _No._ Not _thinking about that right now. Calm the hell down and get a grip!_

Ritsu is desperate to distract himself and more than ready to take his coffee and run, never to return, when his eyes drift back towards the counter. Or, more precisely, to the laminated flyer sprinkled with red that Type had just slammed down onto it.

_HELP WANTED._

_Apply inside._

A faint sense of irony tugs at the corners of his mouth. He doesn't have time to wipe it away before a cutting gaze is locking with his again.

Type glances between Ritsu and the flyer. His expression doesn't change. "What? You interested in the job, or something?" His tone isn't hostile or accusing. If anything, he sounds bored.

It still irritates Ritsu, for some reason. "Excuse me?" He sounds prim, proper, and lightly condescending. Everything he was always taught to be and everything he hates.

Type's eyebrow raises a single millimeter. "You were kind of staring at the flyer," he says, sounding for all the world like he's talking to a fifth-grader.

Kisa jabs him in the side. "Hey, don't be such an ass, for once, Takano," he scolds. An appreciated gesture, but it's too little, too late.

Takano, apparently, rolls his eyes.

Righteous fury burns in Ritsu's chest. Takano, huh? What a jackass. He jerks his chin up and squares his shoulders, feeling more defiant than he has since his life officially turned into a wreck. "I wasn't _staring._ It's kind of hard not to notice something that's covered in bright red letters, you know," he snaps. "Are you always such a presumptuous ass?"

Takano's previous expression of boredom is nowhere to be found. His bruising gaze has softened into something more curious than cutting. Just like he'd accused Ritsu of, he looks interested. _Very_ interested. The right corner of his mouth twitches upwards. "Are _you_ always so cute when you're mad?"

Kisa smacks his forehead.

Ritsu's lungs expel their precious stores of air, violently. This can't be real.

But Takano doesn't look away. There's something in his slowly brightening eyes. It almost looks like a challenge.

Ritsu's not about to accept it. Like hell is he playing any of this weirdo's mind games. Without breaking eye contact, he reaches into his pocket, grabs his wallet, and draws out the first bill he finds that should be enough to pay for his iced coffee. Slapping it down onto the counter on top of the offensive flyer, his hand comes dangerously close to Takano's. He yanks it back like he's been burned.

Takano still doesn't look away. If anything, his eyes seem to trace Ritsu's every movement with even more precision.

Skin prickling, Ritsu decides that enough is enough for one day. Jaw clenched tightly, he turns towards the door and marches.

Kisa's hissed beratements follow him to the door.

Ritsu pays it no mind. And if he still feels heavy eyes on his skin long after the cafe has faded from sight, well, that's only because he's an idiot. He drains his iced coffee fairly quickly, chucks the cup into the nearest trash bin, and vows never to set foot near Takano in that place again. With the residual anger still keeping the blood warm in his system, it's an easy goal to set.

He doesn't even begin to cool down until he realizes that it's starting to get rather late, and he has very little food at home, and even less money to solve that particular problem. He's wasted an entire day that he did not have the luxury to lose. Fantastic.

Checking his phone for the first time since this morning, he's not sure if he's pissed or relieved that his parents haven't tried to contact him. Ultimately, he decides he feels nothing at all. They're probably trying to sweat him out; convinced that their pampered, precious figurehead will crack under the pressure and beg for their forgiveness before, god forbid, trying to take care of himself. 

Fuck that. Ritsu's not about to give them the satisfaction. He _will_ figure something out. He has to.

Unbidden, he remembers how truly useless he is when it comes to living and working in the real world. Unbidden, he remembers what's waiting for him if he doesn't adapt quickly enough. A prison disguised as a house. Cruelty disguised as love. There's no choice, here.

Unbidden, he remembers bright red letters spelling _Help Wanted._

Ritsu groans. He doesn't want to go back, but that doesn't change the fact that he very well may have to.

He's sickened to realize that a small part of him aches to return to the painful, but comfortable simplicity he'd been bubbled into the majority of his life. (He knows he could have it again. Easily. Sure, it may have had strings, but there was security and comfort there, as opposed to the real world he was quickly learning provided very little security or comfort.) He squashes the thought down ruthlessly before it can take hold. It was never worth it, and Ritsu doesn't need it. All he does need is time. So, he grants himself that.

One day. He'll give himself one day to try and come up with another solution before he even entertains thepossibility of facing Takano's unspoken challenge again. After that, well, he'll have to set aside his pride, as much as it pains him.

Still though, even if he's left with the least attractive option (and even he can't pretend that there's not a bit of irony in him referring to Takano as unattractive), that doesn't mean he has to like it.

* * *

Ritsu goes back two days later. He doesn't like it.

Takano, apparently not hiding out in the back room today, smiles when he sees him.

Ritsu grits his teeth. _Necessity, necessity,_ he reminds himself. He still bristles when Takano looks at him expectantly. The guy doesn't have to be such an absolute prick about it. "Are you still hiring?" He forces his jaw to stay relaxed. This is going to go even worse than he's anticipating if he's scowling.

There's a knowing glint in Takano's eye that ensures that he's not buying any of Ritsu's bullshit for a second. "We are, as a matter of fact. Are you asking for yourself? I would never _presume-"_ he drawls, poorly concealing his sadistic amusement.

Ritsu screams inside of his head. Outwardly, he releases a slow breath. _Necessity. Necessity._ He doesn't acknowledge Takano's dig at him. "I don't know much about coffee, to be honest, but I'm a quick learner. I promise not to let you down." He bows his head briefly, before looking up to gauge Takano's reaction.

Takano's sarcastic smile is gone. Instead, his eyebrows are raised in surprise. Ritsu hopes that's a good thing.

Ritsu's eyes cast downwards. His hands begin to shake with nerves, so he curls his fingers into his palms to hide it.

Takano's eyes never leave him.

Ritsu's heartbeat increases every moment Takano remains silent until the silence is broken.

"If I'm going to hire you," Takano says, and Ritsu's head snaps up so fast he winces. Takano smiles, genuinely, this time. "I should at least know your name. Don't you think?" He holds out his hand.

Ritsu's throat constricts. He tries to clear it discreetly. Willing his hand not to shake, he reaches out as well. Takano's hand is hot over his. This doesn't mean a thing. "I'm Onodera. Onodera Ritsu."

Something strange flickers across Takano's face. At least, Ritsu thinks it does? Before he can be sure, it's gone. "Well, Onodera, I sure hope you know what you've just gotten yourself into."

When his hand is released from Takano's firm grip, Ritsu can't help but wonder the same thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things that didn't make it into this chapter that I want to mention:   
> 1\. Takano used to live in the apartment next to Ritsu but moved into the loft above the cafe and they still never realized they used to be neighbors   
> 2\. Kisa and Yukina are dating and Ritsu's gonna damn near call the cops when he finds out because he still thinks Kisa's like 16  
> 3\. I both love and hate coffee puns
> 
> This was supposed to he a one shot but then it spiraled so there's gonna be more. Not sure how much yet, but at least one or two more chapters. I hope you enjoyed <3


	2. Scalding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cries in _This was supposed to be a oneshot_

Punctuality has been drilled into Ritsu Onodera's skull since he was five years old.

"Onoderas," his father had been too fond of saying, "are never late." And they weren't. There was no such thing as on time. If you weren't at _least_ ten minutes early, you were late, and tardiness was unbecoming.

So, naturally, Ritsu is almost late on his first day. Fucking alarm clock.

It's one near-death experience after another, getting himself dressed and out the door and down the street, cursing under his breath all the while. Adrenaline helps him make the fifteen-minute trek in ten. He's frantic and flushed and out of breath when he skids to a stop in front of the doors to the cafe. His hair is a mess. There are two minutes until he's scheduled. It's barely his first day. He's late. Tardiness is unbecoming.

Somehow, this is the straw that breaks the camel's back.

~~He's~~ It's pathetic. Because it hasn't been a week since Ritsu finally grew a backbone and fucked his life upside down and sideways all in one go, and already he's about to crack under the pressure. ~~He's~~ It's pathetic because he's honestly surprised that it took _this_ long.

Ritsu can't do this.

He can't. He doesn't know why he thought he could. His hands are shaking and he can't make it _stop_. He's held it together (if you can call it that) this long, but now he can't breathe. This isn't where he's supposed to be. It's wrong. He's supposed to be at Onodera Publishing. He's supposed to be at his desk with his manuscripts and his pen and a headache, miserable but safe; secure and ignoring the vicious whispers and side glances he'd forced himself to grow numb to years ago.

He's not supposed to be late, fighting down a powerful urge to vomit in front of some cafe that he'd never set foot in before yesterday. What was he _thinking?_ He's already fucked up before his first day's even started because he can't do _anything_ right and he's late and Onoderas are never late and he can't _do_ this.

And it's funny because his coworkers had always thought of him -when they'd bothered to think of him at all- as cold and stiff and professional to a fault, and Ritsu can only imagine what they would say if they could see him now; half a mess and near a full breakdown.

Unfortunately, he doesn't have time for breakdowns right now. He's late ~~unbecoming~~ and he _literally_ can't afford to be fired. Again.

Ritsu gives himself one second to take a deep breath and get his shit together. It hurts, mostly, and it does sadly little in the way of helping him breathe easier. Heart hammering in his throat, he forces his hand to remain steady as he takes hold of the door handle that's colder than it has any right to be. It's his first day. He needs to calm the hell down and make a good impression-

The door is locked.

What?

Ritsu tugs the handle experimentally. It stays locked. The panic that had been rushing underneath his skin cools into a more manageable confusion. He startles when an amused huff of an exhale echoes from behind him.

"If you're trying to break in, you might want to try breaking a window, or something. This doesn't seem very effective."

Ritsu yanks his hand away from the door like it's burned him and turns sharply.

Takano, who had _not_ been standing there ten seconds ago, laughs.

"I wasn't-" Ritsu's face burns, and he tears his eyes away from Takano's bemused expression. "Where did you even come from," he sputters indignantly, deciding to avoid Takano's asinine 'greeting' altogether. Normally, he would never allow himself to be so bold with someone he'd not only recently met, but who also happened to be his boss, now, but there's something comforting? familiar? about Takano that makes it hard to keep his composure.

That shit-eating grin that manages to get under Ritsu's skin like nothing else eases up, somewhat and Takano points towards the cafe. Or rather, the second story _above_ the cafe that Ritsu hadn't noticed before. "The place came with an apartment. I live here," he shrugs.

Ritsu's first, unwitting thought is that living above a cafe sounds _amazing._ That sounds childish, though, so he doesn't mention it.

Takano walks towards the door (also closer to Ritsu), and his steps are unhurried and calm in a way Ritsu envies terribly. "Sorry, I didn't expect you to be early," he says, fishing a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocking the door.

Ritsu jolts. He hadn't been early, he'd overslept and barely made it _on time,_ which meant he was late and he wasn't supposed to be late because tardiness is unbecoming and-

But the door had been locked. Takano had gotten there _after_ him. Takano said he was early. Maybe… maybe it was fine?

Something in his chest thuds. For the first time since he woke up with a panicked gasp, it feels like he can take a breath. He doesn't understand why.

Takano opens the door.

Some of Ritsu's shattered confidence glues itself back together. His hands are steady. He may have gotten off to a rough start, but he _will_ prove that he isn't completely useless today. He has to.

Takano holds the door open. His eyes glitter with a challenge that Ritsu accepts without hesitation. "Welcome aboard, Onodera. Let's get started."

Ritsu nods and walks through the door.

The lights in the cafe are off. It still smells like coffee, though none is brewing, yet. The booths are relatively the same, but the tables are laden with upturned chairs placed neatly on top of them.

Takano flips the lights on before closing the door behind him.

Ritsu starts at the sound of the lock.

Takano tsks at Ritsu's confusion. "What? Did you think I was just going to throw you to the wolves right off the bat?" He answers Ritsu's unspoken question with one of his own. "I'm not a monster. We don't open for another hour. Right now I'm just gonna show you the ropes and try and get you at least a little acquainted with everything before showtime."

Oh. That's… not what Ritsu had expected. Not trusting his voice and praying that his face isn't as red as he thinks it is, he nods in assent. Takano being an asshole, he knows how to handle. Takano being a decent, thoughtful person, not so much.

They set the upturned chairs right side up in surprisingly companionable silence. Then it's time to go behind the counter.

"Right, you're gonna need this," Takano says, tossing something in Ritsu's direction.

Ritsu, not known for his reflexes or hand-eye coordination, somehow manages to catch the bundle of cloth before it hits the ground.

Takano finishes tying his apron in a knot behind his back. He looks at Ritsu expectantly.

Uncomfortably warm under Takano's watching eyes, Ritsu glances warily at the apron bow clutched in his hands. He's never worn an apron in his life.

Takano is staring.

Stomach fluttering with… nerves, Ritsu unfolds the apron and, after a brief inspection, slips it over his head in what he hopes is the right way. It's inside out.

Takano snickers.

Ritsu's face heats despite himself. He quickly yanks the apron off and flips it around before putting it back on. The bottom of it stops just above his knees. Taking the strings at his side and holding them behind his back, he tries his best to tie it in a suitable excuse for a knot. He fails. In his defense, as he already said, he's never worn an apron before in his life. Sue him.

Takano is no longer snickering.

Ritsu can't bring himself to meet his eyes. "Sorry, if it looks weird or I did it wrong, " he says, trying hard not to stumble over the words. Unused to the feeling of the cloth now clinging to the front of his shirt, he absently hooks a finger over the top of the apron under his neck, and tugs it away from himself a bit. "I don't… usually wear black." Or aprons, but that's neither here nor there.

Takano doesn't speak for a long, drawn-out moment that has Ritsu's heart ready to beat out of his chest, and when he does, his voice sounds a little off. "It definitely doesn't look weird," he promises, clearing his throat.

Ritsu's lungs forget to do their one job when Takano takes a few steps forward and there is suddenly much less space between the two of them than Ritsu is emotionally comfortable with. He couldn't explain why if he wanted to, but he is painfully aware of every move Takano makes as he steps to the side and ends up behind Ritsu. He very nearly jumps out of his skin when an unexpected touch meets his lower back.

Takano hums lowly in disapproval. "This knot is terrible. Have you seriously never worn an apron before? How much of a spoiled child were you," he scoffs, tone battling between annoyance and disbelief. He might as well have slapped Ritsu in the face.

Ritsu knows that Takano doesn't, can't know that he's poked a bleeding wound, but he cringes. Hard. Whatever the hell is fluttering around in his stomach ceases instantly. He remembers that above all the weirdness, the thoughtfulness, and the what may or may not be flirting that makes up everything he knows thus far about Takano, he is a tactless _jerk._

Takano undoes the piss poor excuse of a knot Ritsu had managed and fixes it.

Ritsu keeps his heart from leaping out of his throat thanks to sheer force of will. He puts some needed space back between himself and Takano. "Hey, don't just touch people without asking!" His voice echoes through the cafe. It's embarrassingly higher than normal.

Takano isn't phased. "Don't be so cute, then," he tsks, having the gall to sound like _he's_ the one being inconvenienced, here.

Affronted, but unable to find his words, Ritsu flounders. He searches for any sign that Takano is joking. He can't find any.

Takano's mouth quirks up on one side before his face smooths over as if it had never wavered.

Ritsu swears he's getting whiplash.

"Okay, there are a few things I need to teach you before the vultures arrive, so pay attention," Takano says, all cool professionalism and completely different from anything Ritsu's seen of him, yet.

And Ritsu may not know how to be anything but the editor he was allowed to be, (and even that was handed to him, he knows that) but he knows how to listen. So he listens.

Takano teaches him how to use the espresso machine, first.

Ritsu is not ashamed to admit that he is out of his element and that his first attempt at making a latte is abysmal. He oversteams the milk and panics when it overflows from its pitcher, but he gets it right the second time.

Takano shows him how to measure out the coffee beans for different sized batches of coffee, and then how to activate the grinder.

Ritsu's hand slips and his first scoop of coffee beans ends up on the floor. Takano hands him a broom and holds the dustpan for him. His eyes glitter with amusement, but he doesn't laugh.

Takano stands over his shoulder and guides Ritsu through ringing up different drinks at the register.

Ritsu is conscious of his breathing as he tries to ignore the rapid pace of his heart brought about by the lack of proximity between them. The staggering number of ways there are to combine milk, espresso, and sugar makes his head spin.

Takano begrudgingly declares Ritsu less of a lost cause than he was one hour ago.

Ritsu's face heats (in _anger,_ nothing else). He tells himself that he's not more proud of earning Takano's approval -if you can call it that- than he has been of anything in a long time. It's not convincing.

Ten minutes before the cafe opens, Kisa arrives, rubbing sleep from his eyes and shooting Ritsu a cheerful grin.

Ritsu is glad to see a familiar face, even though the memory of how their last conversation had gone leaves him a little flustered.

The face beside Kisa's is not so familiar, but the tall, solemn man who introduces himself as Hatori and exudes an aura that says _no-nonsense_ is polite, and Ritsu likes him immediately.

Takano decides that, for today, Ritsu will not be given too much responsibility. While that would typically irk him, today his stomach is churning nervously and he can't bring himself to mind, much.

Kisa is to shadow Ritsu at the register.

Hatori is on drinks, and Takano is left to take stock of all their supplies to make sure that they have enough to get through the day, order more for tomorrow, and step in to help Hatori if he needs it.

And, with that, it's seven o'clock. Cafe Emerald is open for business.

Ritsu swallows down a sudden burst of nerves that he doesn't have time to feel. He's a fish so far out of water that he somehow ended up in outer space, but that doesn't matter right now. It can't. Today he _will_ prove that he is not the helpless, sheltered, perfect little prince he's always been accused of being. He'll prove it to his old coworkers. To his parents. To Takano. To himself.

He has to.

* * *

By the end of his first shift, Ritsu is ready to keel over. Violently.

His only other job ever had been as an office worker. He's never been on his feet for so long in his life! Almost the _second_ they had opened the door there had been _people,_ and after that, it had been nothing but:

  * Coffee
  * Rude customers
  * Coffee
  * Scrambling desperately to try and remember how to ring up ridiculously specific drinks that Ritsu still isn't sure qualify as actual caffeine, due to how much sugar was in them
  * More coffee
  * Cleaning up spills from milk pitchers that had gotten too close to the edge of the counter
  * _More_ coffee
  * Impatient customers who had given complicated orders faster than Ritsu could keep up with and snapped at him when he'd had to ask them to repeat themselves
  * And _more. Freaking. Coffee._



Eventually, the last customer tricked out, Kisa stumbled wearily to the door after patting Ritsu's sunken shoulders in a sympathetic show of camaraderie, and Hatori hadn't been far behind.

Ritsu had discovered that the backroom was equipped with a small couch and consequently collapsed onto it immediately. That was five minutes ago, and he has no intention of moving any time soon. He doesn't have enough energy to react when another body settles on the sofa next to him, but he does flinch when something warm touches his cheek.

Takano's mouth curves. He taps the cup of coffee against Ritsu's cheek again. "For you," he says. "You did well, today."

Ritsu takes back anything bad he ever said or thought about Takano. Face warm (because of the coffee!), he accepts the offering. "Thank you," he mutters tiredly, trying for a smile that feels awkward on his face. He takes a sip. Warmth flows through his chest and he lets out his first proper breath in a long while.

Takano watches him for a moment before he appears to become lost in thought and he stares off to the side instead. It should be creepy but he's got an expression on his face like he's trying to solve a particularly difficult puzzle, and there doesn't seem to be any ill will behind his eyes, so it isn't.

Still, Ritsu can't help but be aware of the fact that they're now alone again. And Takano is… not bad looking, and nice sometimes, and something about him is vaguely, inexplicably familiar and comforting, and he's called Ritsu cute twice now and-

Takano's eyes shift to the side with no warning and now he's _looking_ at Ritsu who was looking at him and _oh fuck._

Ritsu looks away and takes another sip of coffee.

For some reason, Takano laughs. It's a harsh and disbelieving sound. "I hadn't been able to put my finger on why you looked so familiar to me, but I think I just figured it out," he says, dry and amused.

The coffee burns Ritsu's throat. Apprehension drops into his stomach, heavy as a rock.

Takano eyes him far too knowingly. "You don't remember me, do you." It's not a question.

Ritsu's hand tightens around the cup. He puts it down before he crushes it. He wipes his hands on the apron he hadn't had the energy to remove. "I can't say that I didn't think that you were a little familiar, too, but I'm sorry, I don't know where I recognize you from." He lowers his head sheepishly.

A rumbling noise of acknowledgment is Takano's only response.

Or at least it is until Ritsu finds his chin being tilted up by the tip of Takano's pointer finger and their eyes are locking again. His heart thuds against his ribcage. Another demand for Takano to keep his hands to himself is on the tip of his tongue, but he never gets the chance.

"What a shame," Takano murmurs, doing dangerous things to Ritsu's racing heart. "You don't even remember that you told me you love me."

Ritsu goes completely, utterly still.

_What?_

He realizes that he's stopped breathing and makes himself do it.

Takano waits.

Ritsu processes. For the life of him, he can't figure out what the hell Takano is talking about. Outside of family, there's only one other person he'd ever said that to-

Wait.

_Wait._

No. No fucking _way._

The hitch in his breathing does not go unnoticed. Takano smirks wryly. "Figured it out, huh?"

Ritsu gapes dumbly. _"Saga?"_ Is all he can manage.

Takano snorts. "Wow, haven't been called that in a long time."

Ritsu can't fucking breathe.

"It _is_ Takano, now. Parents finally got divorced senior year. But yeah, I was Masamune Saga, back then."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck._ This is Ritsu's worst nightmare.

"You know, I always did wonder what happened to you, after you kicked me in the face and disappeared off the face of the fucking planet," Takano says idly; casually. As if _anything_ about this could ever be casual.

And Ritsu has kept his memories of that night locked up tight for ten years but today, he breaks. "You _wondered what happened_ to me," he spits, fire and rage burning his skin. "That's rich, coming from the person who _laughed_ at me when I asked if you even liked me. Fuck you." His shoulders are shaking. He stills them through willpower alone.

Takano looks surprised for all of three seconds before his face flickers with annoyance and passes Ritsu off even more. "What the hell are you talking about," he has the audacity to snap. "I don't remember that."

And if that isn't another stab to the heart. _He doesn't remember?_ This has to be a fucking joke, right?

If it is, Takano _really_ must think he's funny, because he keeps rolling with it. "Are you seriously saying that we broke up over a _misunderstanding?_ How cliche," he laments, and if he could be a _little_ more serious about this that would be great.

Unable to keep still a moment longer, Ritsu makes himself stand despite his exhaustion. The strings of his apron tighten against his back, and he remembers Takano tying it for him and _touching_ him. He yanks it off over his head and folds it. He paces.

Takano doesn't stand, and while that _should_ put Ritsu at ease, it only serves to make him more nervous. "So, does this mean we can get back together?"

Ritsu freezes. His heart stutters in surprise. A headache springs to life directly behind his eyes. There's _no_ way he heard that right, right? "I beg your _pardon,"_ he says, choked and quiet and nowhere near as vicious as he'd like it to be.

Takano, once again, isn't phased; something that's beginning to increasingly get on Ritsu's nerves. "I never was able to forget about you, no matter who I was with," he says like he's not taking everything Ritsu had believed all these years and flipping it upside down.

Ritsu almost wishes he was joking. It would be easier to handle being laughed at again.

Yet, there's nothing humorous about Takano's expression when he says, "You loved me, once. I'll make you fall in love with me again. " Nothing but sincerity. A promise.

Ritsu's heart doesn't beat for two seconds. Emotions that he hasn't felt and hasn't wanted to feel for longer than he can remember threaten to make it burst. There's anger, first, and old sorrow never addressed, and deeper, there's regret and fear. Beneath it all, though, there's hope, and that's where he draws the line.

Fuck this. Fuck this fuck this _fuck this._ Ritsu is _not_ capable of dealing with this right now.

Ritsu may be totally over all the bullshit that was his brief few months with Saga… _Takano_ ten years ago. He may have forgotten it and buried it and been _fine._ But Ritsu is tired and angry and _scared_ of everything Takano is forcing him to feel. And Ritsu is a coward ~~just like everyone says he is.~~

Like he always does, Ritsu runs. Takano doesn't chase him, but his words do.

_I'll make you fall in love with me again,_ he says.

Fuck that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just love lighthearted romantic comedy coffeeshop aus :)
> 
> P.s. A big Thank You to Rosesweetchild for betareading for me again!!!


End file.
